


Another Average Bad-Day

by Binturong



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Helpful Dean, Helpful Sam, Near Death Experiences, helpful brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 13:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3121751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Binturong/pseuds/Binturong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt: Sam and Dean fought a thing, almost died, and got covered in monster guts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Average Bad-Day

**Author's Note:**

> I had someone edit this for me, but they were drunk so I don't know how well they did. I didn't check their work.

Another close call had the brothers grasping and clinging to each other as they scrambled and slid, trying to get out of the thick, slippery mud and back to the car. Dean wasn’t even complaining about how they would have to clean out the mud later or how the slightly acidic gore covering them might ruin the upholstery. The only thing either of them could think of was getting out of the area before the fire and rescue officials got there and making sure they were both okay. Neither of them were sure how many times they asked each other if they were hurt before they threw themselves into the Impala, or how Dean managed to not drive them into a tree with how little he watched the road. 

They had barely calmed down at all in the six hours they drove to get out of state and put as much distance between them and that whole situation before Dean couldn’t drive anymore. Sam checked them in, ignoring the way the manager looked at him, seemingly hesitant to let such a dirty person stay in their establishment. Once within the room, after securing it with their usual wards, they gave themselves and each other a cursory once-over. Their wounds were mostly superficial, but Sam had a particularly deep cut across his back, so Dean let him shower first. While Sam scrubbed viciously at the grime covering his whole body, Dean did his best to wash his hands in the tiny sink with its icy water.

Sam did his best, but he couldn’t really clean his wound without making it worse, so he tilted the showerhead away so that the spray was hitting the wall of the stall. He reached out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around himself before informing Dean of this trouble. Taking off a few top layers of probably-ruined cloths, Dean grabbed their first-aid kit and a fresh washcloth. Standing outside of the stall, Dean reached up to soak the cloth with the hot water. He rubbed a bar of soap on it, thoroughly sudsing it up as Sam turned his back to him with a joke about how it was too bad he wouldn’t get the chance to return the back-scratching favor to that fugly monster. Dean laughed, gently cleaning the jagged wound. He asked (for what must have been the hundredth time) if Sam was sure that it wasn’t poisonous at all, and Sam reassured him once again that they were both fine so long as they could manage to wash away all the remnants of it’s implosion. Dean offered to help clean the gunk out of Sam’s hair, and the younger Winchester accepted on the condition that it didn’t involve any sort of hair-removal. Dean quietly promised that he had no such intention. Sam hadn’t realized until that moment how scared Dean had been that he had lost him in that thing’s deep lair. Using Dean’s own methods, Sam tried to normalize the situation by joking about the whole scenario, making fun of both of them in turn, and throwing in a few remarks about the slippery muck creature they had accidentally stumbled upon. 

Once the wound was clean and stitched, Sam twisted the showerhead back around and got back to scrubbing himself as Dean started to thoroughly clean his long hair. Once his upper body was clean and his hair washed twice, Dean left Sam alone to cleanse the rest of himself. Pulling the covers off of his bed, Dean laid the top sheet out on the floor and dropped himself down on it. He figured that by the time his brother got out of the shower, there would be no more hot water. He was content to sleep until there was enough hot water for him to take his turn scrubbing guts off. 

When Sam finished with his shower the water was indeed beginning to run cold. He got out, scooping up the soaked-through towel from the floor of the stall and throwing it in the tiny sink as he stepped out. After drying himself with the towel he found hanging above the toilet, he wrapped it around his waist and went out into the room to inform Dean that he was going to have to wait for a while before he could shower. That stuff was much harder to clean off than he had expected, and he had not meant to take so long. When he discovered Dean sleeping on the floor, he figured that his brother had already come to this conclusion. Sam got dressed silently, grabbed the keys from the nightstand where Dean had dropped them, and went out to buy some beers and water to stock the mini-fridge with and some food to eat later. He pulled the top sheet from his bed as well when he recalled the state of their car’s interior. He decided he would also find somewhere to take care of that.

When he returned, he found Dean sitting up and playing a game of solitaire. He tossed him a beer, inquiring as to whether or not the shorter man had checked the water. Dean informed him that he was waiting for his baby to be safely returned to her parking space before he got in. Sam could see that Dean had actually just been waiting on him, but he let it slide. They had both almost died again after all. He had been feeling the strain of their separation the whole time he was out. 

Dean then complained that the monster-guts/grease/mud/blood/who-the-hell-knows-what had dried and made everything extremely uncomfortable, bordering on painful. Sam assured him he would check all of their sources to make sure that everything would be alright. He stored his purchases and started up his laptop. After some research, Sam discovered that the acidic quality of the creature would eventually start to burn, in some cases causing serious chemical burns. As he had already read before, this source stated that the tissue, blood, and other bodily fluids of the beast could be washed away simply using soap and water. This particular source also suggested that a sensitive-skin formula be used.

After informing his brother of these findings, he threatened to throw him into the shower and scrub him down himself if he didn’t get in the shower right away. Dean insisted that that would be wholly unnecessary as he had no interest in damaging his beautiful skin any more than it already was. He grabbed another towel from their bags (he had hanged one up for Sam after his sibling had used the motel’s only towel,) and went to begin the process of cleaning himself. Sam drank a bottle of water, then flopped down into bed. Pulling the blanket around himself, he fell asleep to the rhythmic sound of the shower running.  
When Dean finally exited the bathroom and discovered a sleeping Sam, he smiled. His little brother was okay, he was okay, and now all he had to do was get his baby detailed. Recalling what Sam had earlier said about chemical burns, Dean pulled on some jeans, threw on his jacket, snatched up the keys and raced outside in a panic. When he got to the Impala and found she had already been cleaned, he laughed out-loud. Sam had always been more responsible than he was. He went back into the room, dropped the keys back on the nightstand, threw his jacket into a chair, and got into the surprisingly comfortable bed. He fell asleep thinking about how maybe the next hunt would be something simple, like a werewolf or a ghost.


End file.
